


Orc Man Tries To Keep His Composure As Scientist Twink Sucks Him Off

by HenryMars



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Well a little plot, also orc/human relationship, also some orc dick headcanons pop up, both of them have a praise kink, first fic on ao3 how do i tag, for uh, i couldnt focus until these two fucked, i guess?, i needed a reason, man i hope i did this right, nothing is in order and everything is in chaos aaaaaaaa, orc dicks: ribbed for your pleasure, plz i worked hard on it and almost failed amerigov bc of it, post story and song, read it, there's a desk involved eventually and its exactly how you think, well no spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 05:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16423757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMars/pseuds/HenryMars
Summary: Lucas Miller’s smile in response is something lascivious, a grin that drips with mischief and sensuality. Without speaking a word, he unbuttons his lab coat slowly.





	Orc Man Tries To Keep His Composure As Scientist Twink Sucks Him Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironiccowboykink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiccowboykink/gifts).



> Firstly, I apologize for the title. It was supposed to sound like a shitty fake news article but then it looked like a porno (which, granted, this is) and then the person I showed this too liked the title and I have no better ideas so here we are.  
> Secondly, my first TAZ fic and it's two men fucking. I think this means I win at fanfictioning...?
> 
> Shout-out to griffinmcelroysvorecorner on Tumblr for being what the kids are calling "Horny On Main" for this sin committed with my own two hands. Without her, honestly this wouldn't have happened because I felt no desire to write TAZ fanfiction -- okay I felt SOME desire to write TAZ fanfiction but I didn't want to but now I did and it's thanks to Demi. But also props to me bc I got her to ship it. :3c The idea is hers too I think. Go follow her and love her she's amazing.

The Bureau of Benevolence (née Bureau of Balance) isn’t as active anymore ever since the refurbishing of Eversummer. The Human Resources department expanded and was scattered into small centers all over the planet in something akin to a franchise, aiding people in public matters as wide-scaled as the justice system to as minute but still equally important as therapy and hotlines.

Brad “The Motivator” Bradson, well-known orc bard, is one of the few who still operate at the BoB’s H.R. “headquarters” moon-side. And as clean-cut as he presented himself, his office was as messy when he was working. Papers piled up haphazardly in random sets of organization, his complex Farspeech device one polite hangup away from crashing to the tile floor, some pens and pencils dropped in lapses of concentration or a brief failed dexterity check.

However, every night he makes sure his office space is clean and organized before he leaves for the evening. He takes his time to re-sort the papers; complaints in one pile, reconciliations in another, interest cases in one more. He re-centers his Farspeech device, gathers up the dropped pens and paperclips. Whatever chaos occurred that day was set straight to be ruined the next day. The last thing he does each night is sweep his floor clean. Afterwards, he scoops up his things, switches off the light, and makes his way home. On days where he leaves on time, he gets home around five-thirty in the evening. On those late nights, he crosses the threshold of his home no earlier than eight.

It’s six o’clock, according to the timepiece his boyfriend got him for Candlenights, and Brad is ready to leave for the weekend. Unfortunately, a late call still has him on the stone, taking notes on a new case involving a complex chain of inter-office relationships, and the person on the other end of the Farspeech is sparing _no_ detail. Brad is polite, of course, and a tiny bit intrigued by the woven tale of Stacy’s Merry Partners and the drama they seem to have stirred up. It’s almost like an audio drama, if such a medium would ever become suitable for carrying entire lengths of stories. A ridiculous notion that Brad dismisses without a second thought.

When Brad is finally able to dismiss himself from the conversation, he goes right to work filing an official report. He doesn’t even notice his new guest until the soft _click!_ of his door shutting gets him to look up.

And the sight makes him smile.

“Lucas, honey, I didn’t realize you would be visiting me today!” he greets his boyfriend warmly. “I’m close to wrapping up for the day, so if you’d like to wait with me, I sure would appreciate the company.”

Lucas Miller’s smile in response is something lascivious, a grin that drips with mischief and sensuality. Without speaking a word, he unbuttons his lab coat slowly. Brad is enraptured as black scandalous lace reveals itself, inch by tantalizing inch. His tongue is suddenly dry, and he gulps audibly to somehow try and moisten his mouth. Heat rises in degrees to his face as Lucas drops the labcoat to the floor and kicks it to the side, along with his shoes. The scientist then perches himself like a model on the corner of Brad’s desk, staring him down with green predatory eyes over the rims of his cracked spectacles. Within the confines of his pants, Brad’s dick twitches. Words fail the orc bard now, a rare condition for him indeed. There’s a question to be asked here, but his mind won’t tell his mouth to form the words.

“Surprise,” Lucas announces, rather needlessly.

Brad sputters uselessly a bit more before he can finally force out, “Wh-what’s this, now?”

“You never showed up to our date tonight,” Lucas replies, idly playing with a pen in the pencil holder. “So I deduced you were busy. I also noticed you’ve been coming home late the past few days, so I presumed you stressed and tired due to work.”

Brad can’t argue. Sometimes he gets caught up in the paperwork and loses track of time. Lucas of all people understands how easy it is to get lost in a job one is passionate for; his natural curiosity has driven him to days without food or sleep in order to pursue new ideas. However, since they became official about a year ago, taking care of each other has become easier; rather, it's easier to take a break when your partner keeps nagging at you to rest or hydrate every two or so hours, or bugging you to spend time with them. As a result, both of them has put on some healthy weight and have been less stressed out.

But, yes, Lucas has a point.

“I apologize, Lucas,” Brad says in the tone of voice that is abundant with regret and weariness. “I...I somehow must have forgotten. Th-there’s been an influx of cases recently, and H.R. is spread a bit thin. I’m going to have to plan a trip planet-side to settle some matters personally. Probably...n-next week, I-I think.” As Brad talks, his voice starts to pick up speed, the actual reality and anxiety settling in that _shit he forgot he had a date with literally the most important person in his life right now-_

But Lucas leans forward and hushes him with a finger to his green lips. “Don’t worry about it, Brad,” he murmurs, and there’s that edge in his voice, a sultry purr that sends another twinge to his crotch. “I’ve got a better idea in mind.”

Before the orc can even form the question in his head, Lucas walks around and slips beneath Brad’s desk. He jumps when he feels Lucas’s hand rub the front of his slacks.

“Just act natural,” comes the voice of his boyfriend. “Also, relax,” he adds. “Do that, too. I’ll take care of you.”

Brad does as he’s told instantly, looking back at the form on his desk and the hastily-scribbled notes beside him. His heart rate picks up. His boyfriend is beneath his desk, fondling him through his pants. Anyone could walk in at any time. He can’t help but shift and squirm just a little, moving to the edge of his seat when he feels Lucas mouth him through the fabric. His heat makes Brad feel hot. He loosens his blue tie and pops one shirt button, tastefully disheveled.

He re-focuses on the paperwork, getting accustomed to the teasing Lucas is doing to his nethers and actually making some progress. He’s distantly aware of Lucas unzipping his slacks, of a sudden breeze hitting where wind doesn’t typically hit. Brad risks a glance down, though, when he feels hot breath dampen his skin.

And he’s thankful he did not miss a second of Lucas swallowing the entire girth of his green shaft in a motion so skillful and fluid it could be considered beautiful alongside being a _huge_ turn-on. Brad comes to attention fully in the wet cavern of Lucas’s mouth, when his green eyes hooded with lust meet Brad’s soft brown ones. He hisses something in Orkish when Lucas’s tongue caresses the ribbed underside, and he keens and bucks his hips forward as his boyfriend begins to suck him off. His breath stutters, he loosens another shirt button as it is now _insufferably_ hot in this office, and he is starting to perspire. He tangles a hand in Lucas’s brown, perpetually unkempt hair.

 _Act natural._ Brad nearly scoffs aloud as the thought hits him. He is acting natural now as he ruts into Lucas’s face, his office chair giving him more momentum for his thrusts. He keeps his voice low as he murmurs praise to Lucas, repeating himself over and over.

“Good boy, Lucas. Right there, oh yes, _yes_ , you’re so good to me, Lucas, you’re so good and wonderful. You’re amazing, Lucas, you’re doing so well--”

Brad isn’t aware of his surroundings anymore; all he’s focused on is how _good Lucas feels, he’s so good, and Brad is so close--_

“Just a little further, Lucas, I’m almost there, so good, so close--”

And Lucas stops suddenly, hand still gripping his shaft but pulling his face out of sight beneath the office desk. The Orkish swear Brad utters this time has nothing to do with pleasure. His cock throbs with a need Lucas for some reason withheld from satisfying.

“Is there a problem?” he asks through gritted teeth, trying not to be annoyed but he couldn’t help that little sliver of the old Bradson Family leaking into his usually-pleasant attitude.

Lucas makes an amused noise as a finger lazily traces the length of Brad’s penis. “I just remembered,” he says in a tone that sounds super scripted and not at all like he just remembered, “that I passed by the Director in the hall on my way here, and she mentioned that she was looking to talk with you.”

Brad swore in Common now, moving to stand up rapidly. But Lucas has him by the balls -- literally -- and coerces him to stay seated.

“Don’t worry,” Lucas croons, his hand slowly stroking Brad’s dick, slick with his saliva and the orc’s precum. “She’ll be meeting you here. I just told her I needed about ten minutes to check in with you, and I’d say it’s been about...eight?”

“Something tells me you knowingly withheld telling me this,” Brad growls, brown eyes narrowed to slits.

“What? You forgot _date night!_ Did you really think tonight would be all reward?” Lucas pinched the head of Brad’s penis, making him jump and yelp. “There’s gotta be _some_ punishment for your actions.”

Brad hastens to straighten up his appearance: re-buttoning his shirt, fixing his tie, tightening his ponytail, and wiping the dampness from his face and neck. All the while, Lucas teases him from underneath his desk in what is no longer an act of kind relaxation but malice. Damn if it feels good though; even if it’s out of spite, Lucas knows just how to make him squirm.

When Lucretia knocks on the door, Lucas shoves Brad’s cock into his mouth again, turning Brad’s, “Come in!” into a squeal part of the way through. He hopes the scientist can feel the dark-eyed glare he sends briefly through the desktop before focusing on his guest.

“Good evening, Madame Director!” he greets professionally, hiding all vocal evidence of Lucas’s presence with a successful ~~bluff~~ deception check. “What can I do for you this evening?”

Lucretia sits down at a chair across from the desk. _Oh no._ That indicates an extended visit. Brad’s jaw is tight as he fights off showing any signs of sexual pleasure. He feels Lucas smirk around his dick, a quiet chuckle that vibrates his shaft. He pushes himself in further so as to avoid even the _temptation_ of glancing down at his boyfriend.

“Are you alright, Brad?” she asks. “You look...flushed.”

Lucas pumps his face up and down the length of his dick. Brad hides his moan behind a yawn.

“Yeah, just a little tired. You caught me resting my eyes for a few minutes.”

She eyes him, an eyebrow quirked. Then, she clears her throat.

“Well, I won’t keep you then. First I wanted to commend you for all you’ve done,” she begins. “Being an H.R. representative is not nor ever will be easy work, and I know staying cooped up on the moon when we can all freely walk the planet’s surface again can be frustrating.”

The only thing frustrating right now is Lucas fucking Miller’s tongue teasing the tip of his dick. Brad deserves a Fantasy Oscar for composure he keeps, although he shifts in his chair slightly to bring his legs around Lucas’s body, keeping him there -- not that he thought the scientist would even _dare_ to reveal himself in his current state with one of the most powerful and influential sorcerers in all the planar systems sitting in front of them.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all!” he replies cheerfully; maybe a little _too_ cheerfully, as the Director’s face twitches slightly into a look of suspicion. “The moon base has been my home for a few years, and considering who my family is...well, it’s easier to be a disappointment to the barbaric Bradson Family name in my celestial office.”

Lucas massages his balls and peppers the entire length of his shaft with kisses. The Director steeples her hands in front of her.

“Well...I suppose that’s...good to hear…? I’m sure Lucas told you when he came to check in, but we had a brief chat in the hallway and he expressed some concern that you’re overworking yourself.”

Lucas deepthroats him again, pumping him fast as his other hand creeps behind his testicles to poke and prod at his taint and sending sparks of pleasure shooting throughout his body. The curling warm of orgasm threatens to break his resolve and façade, so Brad in response tightens his legs around the scientist, stopping him almost completely. His boyfriend’s nose presses into the neatly-trimmed bush on the orc’s pelvis, his hand ceases movement as it becomes trapped between the leather chair and the human’s chin, and he could feel the head of his cock violently twitching in the back of Lucas’s throat. Brad allows a broad grin across his lips under the guise of the affection that The Director brought up.

“Yes, apologies, he’s just being a worrywart. There’s been a, um, a high amount of incidents lately, so I’ve been trapped in my office longer than usual most days,” he explains. He can feel Lucas’s throat spasm as he tries to breathe and not audibly gag. It’s almost too hard to handle, in both how good it feels and in how hilarious the situation is. He supposes Lucas didn’t expect Brad to take the upper hand. “I’m planning a trip down planet-side to aid however I can.”

The Director nods. “Good work. We’d be lost without you.” She leans forward, her hazel-blue eyes appraising him. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? Staying up on the base, working so much that even _Lucas_ thought to mention his worry about you?”

He understands what she means; he and Lucas weren’t openly romantic people, preferring to keep their private lives private. Not to say they’re weren’t openly affectionate, but it’s more of a quick peck on the cheek and a, “Love you,” rather than written monologues publicaly declaring their love.

Insistent taps on his thigh let Brad know said scientist is in need of air. He loosens his grip, and shivers as Lucas slowly, slowly, _slowly_ works his mouth’s way off his cock, his tongue brushing each ridge along the way, torturing him even as he fights his way to breathe. Lucretia gives him another cocked eyebrow.

“S-sorry, sudden chill.” Brad clears his throat. Lucas blows on his painfully hard, spit-soaked dick. He shivers again, adjusts himself in his seat. “Anyways, no, this is perfect for me. I’m with my real family, I get to see Lucas-” at the mention of his name, his boyfriend gives Brad’s member a quick jerk, causing a barely noticeable hitch in the sentence that the orc just _knows_ she caught- “pretty much whenever I want. I’m comfortable here. I...like it here.”

She’s silent for a few moments. He feels unbearably hot beneath her scrutinous gaze, as well as from the handjob Lucas decides to give him.

“Alright. Asked and answered. I’m glad you’re happy here.” The Director stands up, as collected as Brad is trying so hard to be with Lucas jerking him off beneath his desk. “Have a good evening.”

She bows her head, and exits as gracefully as she arrived, closing the door with a _click!_

As soon as he’s certain she’s out of earshot, Brad growls, pushes back from his desk and stands up, yanking Lucas to his feet by his hair. The human scientist looks both sheepish and pleased with himself.

“Well, th-that wasn’t so bad, was it-?”

Brad shoves his hand down to the tent Lucas was pitching in his lingerie, cutting him off with a gasp as he grips it hard through the fabric. He leans in so close he could smell the shampoo Lucas used last night.

“That, my love, was absolutely brutal.” His voice rumbles deep in his throat as he shoves Lucas onto the desk, forcing himself between his legs so that they were hip-to-hip and dick-to-dick. “It feels like maybe _I’m_ not the only one who should be punished tonight.”

Brad tears the thin black lace off Lucas’s pelvis, revealing the leaking member he manhandled a moment earlier. One hand, calloused and dextrous from years of lute-picking, roughly strokes him off, while the other grasps the back of Lucas’s head to mash their lips together in a desperate kiss. He feels fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, hastily trying to undo them. He feels sharp tugs of his ponytail, bringing a moan to his lips that Lucas eagerly swallows.

Usually, Brad is a subservient lover: gentle and sweet, always putting his partner above himself. However, if Lucas’s prolonged teasing and denying wasn’t enough to put him in this fevered, sexually frustrated mood, then certainly doing all that with _his boss_ sitting across from them is more than enough. If he had been a Barbarian like the rest of his family, then this would be his Rage, and he would tear off every piece of fabric Lucas was wearing and fuck him into next goddamn year. It would be rough and raw and there would probably be blood -- he’s seen the Rage Orgies before, both the band and the barbarian sex parties. The band was alright; death-metal folk songs are not his style. The sex parties were _relentless;_ all macho orcs going at it rough and fast with little to no preparation involved for either party. And these went on for _hours_.

He’s absolutely going to fuck Lucas, though. Hard. Make him forget to walk, forget how to say anything besides Brad Bradson’s name.

Brad turns Lucas around suddenly, knocking the latter’s glasses onto the floor. He clears papers the only way his lust-addled brain knows how: one sweep of his arm, and the work for the day is sent fluttering to the floor. He leans over, chest-to-back as he forces Lucas against the polished wood, ragged breath on Lucas’s pierced ear, green hand with a firm grip on his pale dick. Brad’s cock was pressed against Lucas’s back entrance, teasing but not entering yet.

“Lucaaaass,” he says in a voice between a sing-song tone and a growl, fangs nipping at the shell of his ear, “tonight was _wonderful_ until you decided to attempt to humiliate me in front of Madame Director. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he snivels, hissing when Brad thumbs the head of his penis and rolls beads of precum around the top. “I-I was just a little mi-miffed -- _fuck that feels good --_ that you for-forgot about dinner tonight. I just -- _shit! --_ just wanted t-to have some f-fun!”

Brad squeezes the head some more, taking a moment to think. “Alright, I forgive you,” he concedes, as Lucas’s trembling in his arms could be more than just arousal. Brad fears he terrified his boyfriend sometimes. Sure, Brad is still angry, but he isn’t the type to hold a grudge, especially since this _was_ all his fault for getting too caught up in work and forgetting about his date with Lucas, the one night a week where he can dedicate himself to this relationship. He just needs to cool off for a few minutes to think over the issue more carefully. And the absolute last thing he wants is to scare Lucas; he’s witnessed a lot of orc-human relationships based on fear, the absolute worst way to have a relationship. He likes Lucas a lot, daring even to call it love, but the scientist could be a little shit. Today proves that point. Brad will just call this payback.

He slowly moves his hand up and down Lucas’s shaft, using the precum as lubricant. His other hand goes to rip through the lingerie’s top and tweak a nipple. Lucas whines with need.

“I should do to you what you just did to me,” Brad whispers, feeling his boyfriend shudder against him. “Torture and tease you, maybe in front of Madame Director, maybe just in front of a window so that everyone can see what I do to you.” His cock begins to press more insistently against Lucas’s asshole, causing his hips to buck into Brad’s minute movements.

“But I’d never do that,” he says, kissing behind Lucas’s ear. “I love you too much to even attempt to humiliate you. Instead, I’m going to fuck you, and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.” And with that, he shoves himself inside Lucas. The scientist makes a noise between a cry and a moan, throwing his head back so violently he almost hits Brad in the face with the back of his skull. He lifts his knee onto the desk to try and alleviate the sudden pain of penetration without prep as well as somehow widen himself. The orc starts moving almost immediately, the pace not slow but not fast either. He isn’t used to this position -- he prefers missionary so that he could look his partner in the eyes -- but he had already spun him angrily over to fuck him into a puddle on the desk, and he intends to do that now and apologize later for being so out-of-character in this moment.

“You feel wonderful,” he grunts into his boyfriend’s ear, quickening the strokes of his cock. Lucas is already melting into him, panting and mumbling incoherent strings of urgings in a fuck-drunk stupor. Brad’s unsure if he can even hear him, but he keeps going. “I want to feel every inch of you, Lucas Miller. Every. Inch.”

After all the teasing done to Brad earlier, the orc bard feels like he can barely keep back the climax that has been so desperate to burst from him. Some part of him, though, wants to at least last a few minutes before finishing. Give them both some time to enjoy themselves together.

The desk beneath them creaks as they move. Brad feels every sensitive ridge of his cock alight with pleasure rebuilding the earlier orgasm with each thrust in and out of Lucas. He straightens his posture to get a better angle, letting go of Lucas’s dick but keeping a hold of him by the tight grip he still has in his mussy hair. His legs feel weaker the closer he gets to the edge but he refuses to stop, speeding up the rhythm in which he plows his boyfriend. The desk rocks harder beneath Lucas, in time to their fucking. The penholder is sent clattering to the floor. Lucas’s head is down, cheek pressed into the desk and a small pool of drool forms from the corner of his mouth. One hand reaches down to beat himself off at a fervent pace.

Brad feels the head of his cock hit that one spot that sends Lucas wild, arching his back as his mumblings become more audible, pushing back as much as he could. His insides tighten around Brad.

_“Yes, fuck, there, right there, Brad, please, please, I love you, please…!”_

Who is Brad to resist, when he himself is so close to the brink? His hips thrust as fast as he possibly can, striking that point over and over and over. He grips his boyfriend’s hips to keep his accuracy, his orc claws digging in slightly. Lucas loses it. He scrabbles for purchase on the wood with his free hand, mindlessly groping for the edge of the desk for something to hold.

When he finally comes, it’s seconds before Brad. He feels it in how rigid Lucas’s body gets, how tight his inner walls squeeze his cock, and that’s all it takes to send Brad over the edge as well.  Pure euphoria crashes into his whole body, and it’s only with the grace of a high reflex check that he pulls out in time to paint Lucas’s back with his cum instead of unloading into his boyfriend. He rides out his orgasm with one hand while the other is two knuckles deep in Lucas, helping him ride out his.

They both come down from the orgasm high. Lucas looks blissfully weary, still collapsed against Brad’s desk as if he is, in fact, a puddle. His eyelids flutter as if he’s trying to stay awake. Brad feels the naptime train hit himself too, but someone has to clean this up, and it’s his office, so his responsibility. So even though he feels as if all of the bones of his body have been liquified, he zips himself back into his slacks, re-buttons his shirt, straightens his tie and tightens his ponytail. A glance at his watch tells him how late it is: 7:15 p.m.

“Lucas, love,” he says, “you need to get up, please.”

The scientist mumbles something illegible in reply but doesn’t stir. Brad sighs. It isn’t outside the realm of possibility that Lucas didn’t sleep at all last night, and that the entire time he was an intense orgasm away from passing out. Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.

“Alright, fine, you big baby.”

Brad scoops the human up as if he weighs nothing -- and he really needs to have another talk with Lucas about that; a healthy person eats three square meals a day, not once a day whenever the thought occurs to him -- and cleans him up the best he can before setting him on the floor in the corner, propping him up while he helps him back into his earlier-discarded labcoat. He folds and tucks Lucas’s glasses into the chest pocket of his lab coat, then leans forward to kiss his forehead tenderly. He doesn’t even react.

Once Lucas is taken care of, Brad sets about cleaning his office; he wipes his desk clean of semen, picks up all the papers he scattered earlier and organizes them into his usual piles: interest cases, complaints, and reconciliations. He scoots his Farspeech device back from its precarious perch, he picks up the pens and pencils Lucas knocked over and places them back in the penholder. He sweeps his floor (and mops for good measure). He gathers his things, gathers his Lucas, switches off the light, and makes his way home.

**Author's Note:**

> I have deleted/bonus scenes I'll post at a later date if people are interested bc I didnt write them yet


End file.
